Dearly
by Vylette Skye
Summary: After all these years, I wondered; who wouldn't? I had wondered, ever since the Chamber of Secrets incident, if I could defeat Voldemort. Could I even face him? Look him in the eyes? Ginny Weasley confronts Voldemort in the Final Battle. ONE-SHOT.


I held my head high as I surveyed the battlefield. My cold eyes pierced familiar faces, faces that belonged to people who were fighting for their lives, for the fate of the wizarding world. I didn't care, though, I _couldn't _care. I had one cause and that was to find Voldemort.

After all these years, I wondered; who wouldn't? I had wondered, ever since the Chamber of Secrets incident, if I could defeat Voldemort. Could I even face him? Look him in the eyes?

My gaunt eyes finally found Voldemort dueling Harry on the far side of the Womping Willow. I raced across the battlefield, tripping over dead bodies, trying not to look at the dead and injured.

I was coming up round side the Womping Willow, when something suddenly pushed me to the side. I crashed into the ground, scraping my hands and legs. I looked up and saw the Womping Willow shifting back into a comfortable position and George lying on the ground, blood gushing out of his head.

The realization of what had just happened dawned on me. The Womping Willow had almost hit me, but George pushed me out of the way and got hit instead.

From all across the battlefield, I could see flashes of ginger moving quickly. It was my family-coming to see George. All of them, except Fred, who had died a hero's death.

I knew I should help George and comfort my family, but I needed to face Voldemort. So, as my family knelt around George, I slowly backed away and then, began to run.

I knew my family would give me cold looks about not caring for George later. If I even lived until later.

I ran faster and skidded to a halt behind Harry. Harry flicked his wand and a large shield charm surrounded us.

"Ginny!" panted someone from behind me. It was Ron. "Why didn't you stay with us and George?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I turned my back on Ron and spoke to Harry.

"It's my turn."

Harry understood but Ron didn't. He walked next to Harry and asked, "Her turn to do what?"

"Fight," I said simply.

"No, Ginny, mom and dad said no because you are underage. You are not going to be fighting deatheaters," scolded Ron.

"You are right, Ron," I said softly, "I'm not going to fight deatheaters. I'm going to fight Voldemort."

"NO, GINNY! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? BESIDES, THIS IS HARRY'S FIGHT!" shouted Ron.

This time, he ticked me off. Why didn't anyone understand that this was my fight as well as Harry's?

"IT'S MY FIGHT, TOO!" I screamed.

"Harry," said Ron, looking for help, "Tell her she can't."

Harry looked at us both silently, making a decision. Then, he nodded to me.

"You're right, Ginny. It's your fight, too. It's your turn," he said and then, despite Ron's protests, he lifted the shield charm from around me, so it only covered him and Ron.

I nervously twirled my wand in my fingers as I slowly approached Voldemort.

"And who's this, Potter?" he spat, "Who is this young girl you decided to hide behind today?"

My face flushed with anger. Did he not remember me?

"You don't remember me?" I asked, incredulously.

"Should I?" he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Hell, yeah,"I said, "You tried to kill me!"

Most people would be delighted if Voldemort didn't remember them, if he didn't know them. Not me.

I can feel anger rushing through my vains, filling my body. He took the time to posess me, to make me do horrible things, to drain the life out of me, and he doesn't even remember.

"I have killed a lot of people," smirked Voldemort.

"You need hearing aids, Tom," I said, waiting for his reaction.

His face filled with rage.

"How do you-"

"-It doesn't matter, _Tom. _What matters is that I said _tried _to kill. You _tried _to kill me. The only two people ever to have survived even thought you wanted them dead are Harry and me. And I find it appalling that you don't even remember me. Me! Ginny Weasley."

"Blood traitor," sneered Voldemort.

"And still, you don't remember? Well, you wanna know something, Tom. I remember. I remember clearly. Maybe its because I wake up screaming each night after having a nightmare, thinking I'm still down in that horrible Chamber with that damn diary!" I said, harshly.

A flicker of recognition flashed across my enemy's face.

"So, now you remember, Tom? You remember that I, Ginevra Molly Weasley, am the girl you possessed by using your diary. You made me strangle chickens, call the baskilisk, and worst you all, you made me trust you. AND THEN YOU BETRAYED ME! And you don't know how horrible it felt, how it still feels!" I screamed, not noticing the silvery tears that slid down my face.

"Oh, Ginny!" said someone quietly. I looked around and realized that everyone on the battlefield had stopped fighting, deatheaters included. They wanted to watch me confront Voldemort.

As I started to make out their faces, time started to move quickly and I felt as if I was spinning in an unreal way.

Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, and Percy were leaning over George's injured body. Luna and Neville were standing hand in hand, smiling encouragingly at me, telling me to go on, to confront Voldemort. To tell him of his crimes and make him feel remorse. I saw Harry and Ron and Hermione, looking determinedly at me. Harry nodded and I turned to face Voldemort, wand at the ready, the spinning stopped and time slowed down.

"I remember you now, Ginny. It doesn't matter, though. Your time has come," sneered Voldemort. But before he could even raise his wand, I shouted, "Stupefy!"

Voldemort flew through the air and crashed into the ground a couple of feet ahead of me, lying on his back, a look of shock on his evil, snake-like face.

Then, an earsplitting noise shattered the silence. Startled, I turned around, only to realize it was applause.

But the battle wasn't over yet.

Harry walked forwards and took my hand in his. Together, we raised our wands and muttered two words that decided the fate of the wizarding world. Avada kedavra.

And everyone burst into cheers.

The rest of the night was a blur. People congratulated me. A party was held in Harry's honor, George was healed, and everything seemed great, except that one small thing kept nagging at the back of my brain.

I can't deny the truth, no matter how much I want to. There is a part of me that loves Harry, a part that hates Voldemort, a part that hates Tom, and also a part that loves Tom Riddle dearly and will do so forever.

Now, the battle is over and Harry can be a normal wizard for once, but I cant be normal.

Of course I can't, especially since I'm kneeling at a freshly made grave with lilies in my hands, when I should be celebrating. I placed the lilies at the grave I made and slowly backed away, not botherin to hide my tears, what I wrote on my grave still fresh in, what I wrote on my grave still fresh in my mind.

In Memory Of

Tom Riddle

~Even though I hated myself for it, I always loved you, Tom~

~I love you~

dearly


End file.
